Chapter 1: Cow (1)
There once lived an unnamed orphan in Sacheon. One day, this orphan encountered a merchant who was distributing relief grain. Seeing that the boy's appearance was not too bad, the merchant said, "I hear you're sixteen. Instead of begging, why don't you come work for me?"The orphan replied, "If you'll take me in, I'll do anything."
By then, the long struggle that had shaken the martial world for decades—the war between the Demonic Cult and the Martial Alliance—had finally ended. An age of peace had begun. Markets naturally stabilized, and merchants rapidly expanded their influence.
The man who hired the orphan was named Jang Daegil, a fairly capable merchant.
Rather than idly watching the tide of expanding market economics, he threw both his body and the fate of his trading house into it.
As time passed, the gamble paid off, and the trading house grew steadily larger.
And at the center of that growth was the orphan boy.
Unlike Confucian scholars who prattled on about Neo-Confucianism, Legalism, or Daoism after having swallowed plenty of ink, the orphan boy was illiterate and uneducated. Yet he had a talent for numbers, was quick-witted, and possessed an uncanny ability to read people's hearts. Jang Daegil highly valued these talents, favored and cherished the boy, entrusted him with credit for successes, and even called him his son. People began calling the boy "Sogil," meaning "Little Jang Daegil." In time, even that became too troublesome, and he was simply called by a single character: So.
By the time So reached early adulthood, the business was flourishing by the day. Its power swelled until Jang Daegil's trading house, Daeunbang, became a giant merchant guild representing all of Sacheon.
But as the saying goes—good fortune invites calamity.
Where there is prosperity, demons follow.
The rise of a new giant merchant guild representing Sacheon unsettled a certain group.
The Tang Clan of Sacheon—The One Clan Under Heaven, Supreme in Sacheon.
For over three hundred years, the Tang Clan had reigned aloofly as the unquestioned supreme power. To them, the meteoric rise of Daeunbang was no different from a challenge.
Was it not said that the three powers that govern the world are authority, wealth, and force?
These three powers are fluid. Possess one, and the others naturally follow.
Daeunbang's wealth could align itself with high authority, and strong martial force could be hired with money.
Thus, in the eyes of the Tang Clan, Daeunbang's financial power was a seed that could grow into a major threat.
Threats must be cut down before they sprout.
The blade of the Tang Clan was leveled at Daeunbang.
The power of the Tang Clan, known as the Supreme of Sichuan, lived up to its reputation.
No matter how Daeunbang was transforming into a massive trading house, it lacked time. The might of the Tang Clan swept over it with ease, annihilating the entire house and erasing it from Sichuan.
On the day Daeunbang was destroyed, So ground his teeth and rolled through the mud.
"Sacheon… Tang Clan…!"
As if trying to wash away blood, So stared at the endlessly pouring rain and swore revenge.
It was the summer of the nineteenth year of the Yongle Emperor's reign.
Who is the greatest under heaven in this era?
One hundred out of a hundred, ten out of ten—everyone answers with a single name: Gumunryong.
The number one under heaven,the leader of the Martial Alliance—Gumunryong.
Clad in a white robe said to have never been stained by a single drop of blood despite fighting countless Demonic Cultists, he was the god of the battlefield, the heavens themselves, the supreme one.
He who crossed innumerable battlefields, undefeated and unyielding, praised as the invincible—
"Hah…"
—let out a sigh as he gazed down at the laurel trees in his estate.
"So… there's no money?"
"I regret to say that is correct."
The man apologizing with a stiff face was named Sima Hui, the second son of the prestigious Sima family and a strategist greatly favored by Gumunryong. Gumunryong's eyes were troubled as he looked at him.
"Strategist Sima, you truly are a strategist. No talent except for war, it seems."
"I am ashamed."
It was the truth, leaving him with neither argument nor excuse.
Gumunryong had expected at least some hollow excuse, but seeing Sima Hui's endlessly rigid bow, he stroked his beard.
"Tsk. I don't like this. It's already been four years since the war between the righteous and the demonic ended."
"Yes."
"An age of peace has begun, the people should be living happily—and yet the Martial Alliance's finances are on the brink of bankruptcy?"
"Yes."
"Does that make any sense to you? We're the Martial Alliance. The Martial Alliance! Where did all the support funds coming from across the Central Plains go?"
"I hesitate to say this, but—"
"Forget the hesitation. Say it."
"There's no shortage of funds or income, but there are far too many thieves within the Alliance."
"…Too many thieves?"
"Yes. Very, very many."
The Martial Alliance's primary income came from funds sent by the Nine Sects and the imperial court to maintain peace and balance in the Central Plains. The next was protection fees—crudely speaking, rent.
"Because the revenue structure itself is flawed, many embezzle. Some claim they didn't receive money they already took. Others submit false reports, saying there was a famine or that bandits stole the funds, and pocket the money themselves. There are too many loopholes—far beyond what we could imagine."
"Mm… mmm."
"It's exactly what you'd expect of base merchants."
Even Sima Hui, speaking so calmly, openly regarded merchants as lowly. That alone made it painfully obvious why the Martial Alliance's finances were riddled with holes.
To the so-called educated class, business acumen was too trivial to be considered talent. Worse, an obsession with money or the skills to pursue it were seen as vulgar and unbefitting of a gentleman. Naturally, merchants were despised, scholars exalted. Martial artists weren't looked down upon only because they might kill you if you did—there was no other reason.
In short, the problem lay in the merchants' tricks, and neither martial artists nor scholars had the ability to stop them. So the money leaked away endlessly.
Gumunryong's grip trembled.
"Why has it come to this?!"
"These tricks are so ingenious and covert that they're difficult to detect, and the bonds between merchants and their collaborators are strong. Gathering evidence is even harder, making punishment impossible."
"If merchants are so tightly united, then we can't hire a merchant to solve the problem either."
"That is correct. No merchant could be trusted with such a task."
"Then what about asking the imperial court and borrowing the power of the Eastern Depot?"
The Eastern Depot was an investigative agency that, by imperial decree, specialized in uncovering corruption and embezzlement among officials. Their reputation was unmatched—no 'golden demon' could escape them.
"With the Eastern Depot's help, it would certainly be possible, but—"
"But?"
"There is a non-aggression pact between the government and the martial world. If we borrow governmental power for Alliance affairs, the Alliance's reputation will be ruined. More importantly, the imperial court would never help us."
"Not even if I request it personally?"
"It has already been four years since the Demonic Cult grew quiet. As the saying goes, once the rabbits are gone, the hounds are boiled—discard the tool once it's no longer needed. The court would rather weaken the Alliance than strengthen it. So borrowing the Eastern Depot's power is also impossible."
"Grrr… This won't work, that won't work! How frustrating!"
Shattering things was the greatest skill under heaven—but that was a talent for times of chaos.
In an age of peace, what was needed was not the power to fight, but the ability to maintain and manage.
Even the greatest under heaven was still just a martial brute. Gumunryong's patience was nearing its limit. Feeling the sharpness of his killing intent, Sima Hui cleared his throat and proposed an alternative.
"The best course would be to hire a capable individual to enforce discipline."
"A trustworthy talent? There's someone like that in the Martial Alliance? Who could it be?"
"They are not from the Alliance. They are a merchant."
"Didn't you yourself say merchants can't be trusted? Are you contradicting yourself?"
"There exists one who is a merchant, yet not truly a merchant."
"A merchant who is not a merchant?"
Sima Hui opened his fan and pointed toward Sacheon, beyond Luoyang.
"This concerns events from the sixteenth year of the Yongle Emperor. A merchant named Jang Daegil, living in Sichuan, took in an orphan as his adopted son. This child possessed business talent bestowed by heaven—never miscalculating numbers, unerringly discerning liars, and gathering the words of commoners to foresee the flow of the times without obstruction. In just three years, he made Jang Daegil's trading house, Daeunbang, the greatest in Sacheon. Such innate talent cannot be denied."
"Hm. Go on."
"But when one says 'the greatest in Sacheon,' who does that truly refer to? The Tang Clan, of course."
"Indeed. Those vicious, wicked bastards. Dogs worse than the Demonic Cult itself."
"When Daeunbang rose to the point of being called the greatest in Sacheon, its power touched the Tang Clan's reverse scale. Last summer, an incident occurred. Unable to tolerate Daeunbang recruiting and training martial artists and attempting to rise as a sect, the Tang Clan took direct action. A net was cast, and hell was unleashed."
"They must all be dead."
"No. There was one survivor who lived through that hell of annihilation."
"…Could it be that person…?"
"That is correct. He is Jang Daegil's adopted son. Jang Daegil and his household believed that as long as that child lived, they could rise again. They say they filled the river with corpses and used their own bodies to block arrows to save him. There must have been great fortune involved—and skill as well. After all, he survived the Heavenly Net snare."
Gumunryong was not a dull man. If he were, he would never have been able to reach such heights in martial arts. With a sharp eye, he reviewed the situation and quickly grasped what Sama Hui was getting at.
"I've heard enough. The Tang Clan's ruthlessness is hard to forgive, but realistically, there's no way to punish them. Rumors are just rumors—they won't serve as evidence."
Even Gumunryong was hearing for the first time that a place called Daeun Guild had been annihilated at the hands of the Tang Clan.
Sacheon was far away, and the Tang Clan was the strongest in Sacheon. It was all too obvious that they would erase the evidence and manipulate matters.
"Even if we know, there's no room for us to intervene. Everyone was still recovering after the Great War against the Demonic Cult, and more than anything, Daeun Guild wasn't without fault."
"That is so. For the sake of the Sacheon Tang Clan's reputation, they never should have tried to recruit martial artists. If, for self-preservation, they wanted to transform their merchant association into a sect bearing the colors of the martial world, they should have first knocked on the doors of the Martial Alliance. That way, at least, we would have been able to save face."
"Getting involved would only be an insult to us as well. There's no need to step in."
The Sacheon Tang Clan belonged to the Martial Alliance; Daeun Guild did not. That fact alone eliminated any justification for the Alliance's involvement. Arms bend inward, after all, and the Martial Alliance was never a sect that pursued righteousness or justice above all else.
"Even so, it leaves a bitter taste."
"But this story is quite useful to us."
"Jang Daegil's adopted son, then."
"As expected of you, Alliance Leader. You've hit the mark."
"If that story is true, a man consumed by revenge wouldn't be blinded by petty money. And if he also possesses genius-level commercial talent…!"
"Then he would be the finest talent our Alliance could hope to find. And if, in the process, we help him achieve his revenge, we could mete out a heavy punishment to the lawless Sacheon Tang Clan."
"Can you find him? I'd like to make great use of him."
He was a man evaluated as possessing the greatest business acumen.
To reach such a level at such a young age—and now, driven by revenge, he must be gritting his teeth and biding his time.
If they could borrow his strength to deal with the Alliance's internal scourges and, at the same time, keep the Sacheon Tang Clan in check, it would be killing two birds with one stone.
As Gumunryong's eyes shone with anticipation, Sama Hui spoke quietly.
"We have already secured him. We're merely awaiting your judgment, Alliance Leader."
"Hoh. How did you find a fugitive being hunted by the Sacheon Tang Clan so easily?"
"I didn't find him."
"Then?"
Sama Hui calmly curled his lips into a smile.
"He came to us."
"He came to you? Hahahahahaha! That fellow is a real monster."
"I believe he is a peerless talent under heaven."
"Tell me, Strategist Sama—if we were to grant him a position, what should it be?"
The Martial Alliance was a coalition of many sects.
Within it were factions, and within those, sects of their own.
With an ordinary position, he wouldn't even be able to raise his head before them.
He would need a post that wouldn't leave him at a disadvantage.
Sama Hui grinned.
"The Central Plains are vast, and thieves are many. One net cannot catch them all."
"True."
"Then how about appointing him as an Inspector at first—observe his ability and authority, and gradually expand his power to form an Inspectorate?"
"If we don't strike the thieves all at once and instead slowly build strength, wouldn't that be the folly of 'beating the grass and startling the snake'?"
"Even so, if the thieves panic and seal up their own hidey-holes, wouldn't that still be a good outcome in its own way?"
"Indeed. As expected of you, Strategist Sama. Proceed as proposed."
"I obey."
Once the Alliance Leader's command was given, everything moved swiftly.
Sama Hui sent a carrier pigeon to So, who was living in seclusion in a corner of Luoyang.
Half a day later, the pigeon returned with So's reply.
Sama Hui unfolded the letter and ground his teeth.
"Damn him—!"
Written in the letter was something utterly absurd.